


Encounters

by inkbits (kmn)



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - College/University, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-30
Updated: 2017-07-11
Packaged: 2018-11-21 11:11:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11356299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kmn/pseuds/inkbits
Summary: Instances where their souls met.(Series of oneshots and drabbles)





	1. Quiet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gon was just too curious and easily distracted.

The light struck his periphery in quick flashes, alerting him of something  _someone_  nearby. A clicking sound going off continuously with small grunts on the side. Looking back at his _Research Methodologies_ book _,_ Gon decided that that finding the source of his distraction would be more productive than trying to memorize quantitative data analysis reports. The topic was useless, his class was useless.

With an air of resignation, he propped himself up from where he was sitting on the bench close to the bushes to pack his books and notes. His muscles and joints cried after the unexpected movement, not used to sitting down for prolonged moments. In fact, he learnt better when his body was actually doing something related to the subject instead of shoving academic jargon down his brain for it to only work during exams period. Damn his short, selective memory.

Gon remembered that he was reading his boring book for a reason, he had midterms coming up. Without knowing, he sighed heavily with his eyes closed. Thinking about all the cramming he would have to do just hours before the exam because his brain did not retain info–

_Click_

Abruptly opening his eyes, he turned his head around looking for the source of the sound, too fast he got whiplash. When he jerked his neck to the left, his grip on the bench lost strength and he fell down his butt kissing the wooden planks unceremoniously.

_Click_

_“Hey!”_ He yelled back. His eyes traveled to a tall, slender silhouette whose face was being darkened by the warm sunset light behind them.

Squinting his eyes, Gon tried to identify the culprit who disturbed his really boring studying session. Honestly though, he silently appreciated the excuse to stop boring holes at thick, uninteresting business book pages. _Damn that book was boring_. Soon after recollecting his thoughts, his brain went back as to why he yelled in the first place and his face produced an irritated expression, black eyebrows furrowing in mild annoyance. 

“Hey!” Gon put his hands on his hips to accentuate his fake anger. More than anything, he was subconsciously (or maybe intentionally) procrastinating. 

“Can you tell me what is that clicking sound? it’s a bit distracting,” He asked, voice carrying a curious rather than annoyed undertone, cocking his eyebrow slightly.

The figure, hiding under the shadow casted from the canopy as a product of the bright warm light, walked closer to him a few steps. Gon regarded him with a dubious yet intrigued look, if he was going to procrastinate he might as well find out what the other was doing there. After a few seconds, Gon saw something black glinting in the other’s hands. Just because he was curious and the reading so boring, he decided to kill time by trying to converse with the other. He liked making friends anyway. As if on cue, a chill breeze hit his face making him break from his own thoughts as though the September weather was encouraging him to continue. With resolution in his steps, Gon walked closer to the other, his black boots crumpling the dry leaves on his way. The closer he got, the more features he identified on the other. Apparently, albeit unfair, the other was taller, wearing a plaid shirt and holding a camera on his hands hoisted by the black leash around his neck. There was nothing else besides the camera. At that, his brain put two and two together.

“Are you taking pictures of me?”

The other person only looked straight at his eyes as if he was unsure whether to respond or not. The proximity allowed Gon to observe that the other had lighter skin, clear teal eyes, and his sharp face was framed nicely by his black glasses. Waiting for the other to respond, he lowered his gaze to his slender hands. Gon opened his eyes slowly, seeing how the other had nimble fingers fidgeting with the camera leash. Maybe Gon was not the best conversationalist, but he was really good at reading body language. 

Naturally taking a step back as if not to step on the other’s personal space, he glanced back at his face and asked in a calmer tone, “Are you a photography major?”, the other nodded languidly,  _progress!_

“Is this for an assignment?” 

Nod.

“What’s your assignment?” 

A moment of silence followed, Gon patiently waiting for a nod or a head shake, but the other just looked down, eyes shifting nervously hand coming up to tussle his light hair choppily. Sensing the shift in the atmosphere, Gon quickly moved his lips upwards to show a reassuring smile his eyes crinkling ever so slightly. He coughed, as if to change topic. 

“My name is Gon. What’s yours?” He extended his hand to the other. The other person looked at the hand reluctantly, his expression displaying he was unsure on shaking it or not. 

To not make things more awkward, Gon was about to retract his hand when he felt his hand being grabbed and tugged. Instead of feeling his hand shaken, the other moved his hand gingerly, the palm facing up. Fingertips starting to trace lines on his palm, and Gon was obviously unsure of what was going on. He felt the other’s fingers tracing the same movement 2 times. When realization hit him, his eyes widened and his mouth formed an “o” in understanding. Gon prompted the other with a nod to do it again, this time with keen focus on the other’s fingers movements. Apparently, he was trying to communicate with him by writing on his hand. He supposed the other didn’t have a pen or phone with him at that moment.

Trying to make sense of what the other tried to write, he repeated each letter. 

“K..i..l..l..u…a,”

The other nodded earnestly after Gon pronounced the correct letters. Gon’s expression automatically brightened after the affirmation.

“Killua! Your name is Killua!” Both faces brightened, Gon was excited to find the other’s name, it felt like he found the treasure after following the hints of the treasure map. Killua was just overjoyed Gon took his time to learn his name.

“Nice to meet you Killua!  _well,_  you see—” Gon stopped abruptly mid sentence, blinking. He observed how Killua’s features changed, his eyes looking straight at him in a bewildered manner and his mouth slightly opened. Confusion was swirling in Gon’s eyes again, _what did I do? did I say something wrong?_

But his thoughts were quickly shoved to the back of his mind as Killua shook his head, and nodded to him, as if prompting him to continue what he was saying. 

Gon just kept talking about what he was doing when he heard the clicking noise—Killua lifting his camera to signal it was him—offering his hand whenever he felt the other wanted to answer. Usually people asked Killua if he could talk and either pestered him about it or left moments after because they didn’t know how to communicate. 

The air started to get colder, but Killua still felt warmth inside him. Gon’s aura was just too friendly and welcoming, like the sun brightening the sky during spring.

Killua smiled with soft eyes after looking at Gon. He felt, no, he  _knew_ hewanted to be Gon’s friend. And maybe for a long time, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [what they look like in the story](http://inkbits.tumblr.com/post/115264327802/this-took-me-a-long-time-to-finish-but-i-am-happy)
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> again another writing exercise


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Killua thinks he imagined, but magic really exists.

“Can I sit here?”

Killua pulled out his left earphone after he felt a presence next to him, a shadow casting over his sketchbook. 

“Excuse me?” He asked lifting his gaze to look at the owner of the shadow. What he found was a sheepish grin adorned with soft tan cheeks and round amber eyes. The other person responded, “I asked if I could sit here?” motioning the small empty space next to him while leveling his eyes to meet the other’s. Killua blinked slowly, his brain still processing the question. In his defense, mornings were not his brightest moments if he wasn’t decently caffeinated and right now he could be using two espresso shots god knows he needs them. Still a bit groggy, his body sluggishly shifted to the right to allow the person sit down, hands gripping on his sketchbook and charcoal stick.

To clear his vision a little more, Killua blinked the grogginess away and turned around to observe his surroundings. The quaint coffee shop had a chill atmosphere, light coming in through the tall windows and the many indoor plants giving a relaxing vibe to the place. There were times when Killua did not register where he was until he sat for 10 minutes without recognizing the place. Leaving unfamiliar classrooms mid-lecture is a common occurrence in his life, unfortunately. 

Stifling a yawn with his left hand, he grabbed the graphite pencil with his right hand until he felt eyes on him. Killua perched his black frames back to the bridge of his nose and glanced to his left. His suspicion of being observed was right, the person who sat next to him was  _ not _ minding his business; he was looking at him, or more precisely his sketchbook.

Feeling self-conscious, he grabs the pencil harder and thinks twice as hard on  _ what _ to do. Killua does not like when there are people observing him when he draws, he feels other people will witness when he makes a mistake. The charcoal stick rolls down, and he turns to grab before he sees a hand prevent its fall. When he looks up, the stranger is smiling at him. Smile as radiant as the sun. Killua can’t deal with so much brightness this early in the morning. He waits expectantly for the other to return the stick, eyes apprehensive. 

Killua’s eyes widen when he sees the other coming closer and grabbing his sketchbook. Killua does nothing for 5 seconds solid, still processing what just happened. Then he snaps.

When he is about to retaliate, the other is already scribbling or rather,  _ doodling _ on his sketchbook. This was a moleskine, and each page was treated with the utmost care. How  _ dare _ he just doodle? It was The Moleskine, the one that only had full illustrations and not  _ doodles _ .

His eyes catch something moving and he redirects his glare to the pages. The bird the stranger drew just now was  _ flying. _

What the heck.

He was seeing things, right?

For good measure, Killua takes his glasses off and rubs his eyes.. 

He was wrong. There was indeed a bird flying in the sketchbook. Its charcoal wings spreading wide in the expanse of the paper. Then another bird joins, and they start flocking together. 

Killua is speechless, his face the literal depiction of “dumbfounded”. Eyes glued to the birds.

When he turns around to ask for explanations, the other is gone. Killua blinks, body still.

He looks down to his sketchbook again, the birds gone, just like their creator. A single message scribbled in charcoal at the end of the paper.

_ We’ll meet again. _

 


End file.
